Ramblings

[Life]

<Life> Maybe I should write something

<Life> Have you all kill it

<Life> But I'm horrible at writing

<Life> Actually, maybe I should

Essentially, these are just my ramblings. No real coherent order, no nothing. Call it a journal if you will. I'm doing this more as a bit of a writing exercise

Take 1:

Shit is boring. No really, it is. I'm holed up at my uncle's place and he wants to toss me out. Not out of hate or spite but out of, get this, LOVE. Find a hostel, he says. Meet a girl, they say. Settle down, enjoy life, blah blah blah... and I'm so bored that I'm fucking writing on a message board at 12AM. My god, what the fuck is wrong with me?

Maybe I should start at the beginning. Or the beginning of the most relevant part. The army. Ah yes, that thing. Draft date is in less than a month. And as for why I've decided to go? Money, fame, women, guns, possibly getting myself blown up on a landmine... a lot of these things interest me. Except the last part. Hell, I don't want to be the guy that walks into a bar and tries to order five beers on three fingers and signal my buddies over with a wave of my stump.

But right now, I'm stuck. Papers are ready and done; just need to do the actual physical and psychological tests to make sure I'm fit. Wouldn't want to spend the next two years of my life on kitchen duty. Bank account is ready. Phone is set up. And I don't have a goddamn place to live. Ain't life wonderful?

And on top of that, I'm arguing with a little girl (on the interwebz of course) over the fact that her writing is shit. Mrs. Schneider would have fallen down dead from reading the first paragraph. Hell, I couldn't even average better than an 80 in her class. But I did learn how to write a damn nice essay. I remember when I was writing my ILRP (the I Love Reading Project). I came up with the most brilliant thesis ever. The health of father-daughter relationships and if that love can actually hurt both parties. What did she do? Shrugged. B+. I think. Might not have even gotten that.

Now she was a great teacher. The one that makes you think that the work you've given in isn't even worthy of being read. So what do you do? You try again. And better. In the end, it turned out nicely.

Anyway, that's all I can think about right now. I'll probably add more at a later date. See if putting my thoughts to metaphorical ink does any good. Maybe it'll be soul-soothing or something like that? Who knows. Chances are that it'll do nothing and I'll forget about it. But maybe not.

[buttmuncher.ops]

Is there still a mandatory draft in Israel? Or did you volunteer?

[Life]

Is there still a mandatory draft in Israel? Or did you volunteer?

Volunteer. Well, I did. Draft is mandatory for Israelis.

Edited December 1, 2011 by Bblader

[buttmuncher.ops]

This may or may not apply to you but when I was thinking about the Marines after high school a good friend told me that signing up for war won't prove / guarantee glory, honor or manhood. He knew I was suffering from major depression at the time as a result of several personal issues on top of probably the only woman I ever truly loved leaving me so he advised against it because my mind almost made a decision without thinking it through.

I'm just saying make sure it's really the decision you want. There's a lot of people in your life that love you and will be heartbroken should something happen to you; the chances of which are increased due to the region and intense conflict.

Good luck in your endeavors otherwise.

Edit: Well I guess the above doesn't apply since you would have been drafted even if you didn't volunteer?

Edited December 1, 2011 by blllllack.mmmmmamba.ops

[Life]

This may or may not apply to you but when I was thinking about the Marines after high school a good friend told me that signing up for war won't prove / guarantee glory, honor or manhood.

I'm just saying make sure it's really the decision you want. There's a lot of people in your life that love you and will be heartbroken should something happen to you; the chances of which are increased due to the region and intense conflict.

Sorry, I didn't explain.

This is something I've thought about for a long time. This isn't about glory, honour or any of that shit. All that was a joke. It's how I deal with most stuff. The real reasons are hard to explain with words and even harder to type out in a coherent sentence.

I'd appreciate if you made the comments in the Feedback thread I set up. I'll be happy to answer anything there.

[Life]

Take 2:

A weekend at my buddy's kibbutz. Fun stuff. The thing is, he's 27 and gay while I'm 20 and pretty good looking (straight as an arrow though). And he invited me. HMMM.

Don't get me wrong. I have no problem with your sexual orientation. You like guys? Go ahead. Wanna suck off a deer or a horse? Be my guest. Don't ask me to join you because I won't. And I don't plan on it.

Anyway, after taking a long ass bus ride (Haifa to Jerusalem is about 2 hours and change) and realizing that all the info for my bank account was left in Haifa (as in.. FUCK), I had to walk from the central station to Kikar Tzion because I don't have a fucking Rav-Kav for the train. So what do I do? Pull out the straps on my luggage, sling it over my shoulders and put my backpack in front of me. And walk.

27 kilos. I measured it at the airport a couple weeks ago and it hasn't changed. That's what, 60 and something pounds on my back with another 20 in front? And all this time, I can't help thinking back to my childhood. I sure as hell didn't get picked first for sports. "Didn't look strong enough" was usually the reason. For some reason, I was looked at as weak and slow. And I'm walking a click down Jerusalem with about 80 pounds on me and not flinching? Am I still weak? Still picked last for teams when gym comes around?

Fuck that. It's really all the motivation I needed to put one foot in front of the other. Because otherwise, I can hear the kids jeering. Laughing about how a little bag was too heavy to carry. And I'm not about to submit to that kind of humiliation. I want to make them eat crow. To stop hearing the voices. And so I walked...

Until I got lost. Let me make myself clear; I only took a monit because I was worried that I'd walk straight into Mea Shearim and get rocks thrown at me because I'm wearing a t-shirt and jeans rather than an 1890's style suit with dress shoes and black socks pulled up tight. This is why us Jews get a bad name. The charadim. They dress like loons and act snobbish. They don't even like Israel. It's ridiculous. I mean, even the Amish have that ceremony where the young adults go out into the world and decide if they want the modern world or not to be their home. But the charadim are fucking backwards people.

But now I'm sitting in a room. I've got a bed to sleep in. Sure I'm paying a lot for tonight but tonight, I need to shave and stuff and I want a room all to myself. I'm fine with a dorm tomorrow. But not tonight.

[Life]

Take 3:

Jon clutched at the rope for all it was worth. Pretty good thing too. Worth about $20 at the hardware store. Right about now, Jon would give anything in the world for it.

"JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!"

"Janey, I'm fine! Caught this rope!" God, his arms were burning. Maybe a dislocation or worse. But right now...

Jon looked down at the white abyss. It sparkled and shined in the light, the way that morning snow always looks on a sunny day. A chill ran through the air. Jon shivered.

Jane poked her head over the cliff. "I'm calling for help right now! Hold on!" She took out her cellphone and dialed. "Emergency?! My friend just fell over a cliff! He's barely holding on!" A pause. "We're at the end of Mackenzie Street..." Silence. "YES, I FUCKING KNOW THAT IT'S LOVERS LANE, NOW GET ME SOME HELP!" Jon winced. Half at the pain in his arms and half at her screech. Jane could put a banshee out of business with that thing.

"Janey, don't worry! They'll send help quick."

Jane sat down at the edge of the cliff, tears in her eyes. "No, you fucking bastard. Don't tell me not to worry. You're going to die and I'll... Don't you fucking let go."

Jon snorted at that and clung on tighter. He knew it was only a matter of time before his arms would let go. But he wasn't going to tell her that. "I was thinking... remember the time back at Karen's Diner? When the mountain climber showed up?"

"Sorta... Wait, why?"

"I was wondering how they do it. Climb mountains and stuff. It's pretty amazing..." Just had to keep her talking so that she wouldn't worry anymore.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRING!

Jane picked up her cellphone. "WHAT?!" Silence. Jon didn't like it. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, YOU'RE BLOCKED UP?! CALL IN THE FUCKING ARMY AND THE FIREMEN, JUST SAVE HIM!" She slammed down her phone and fresh tears welled up.

"Janey, please don't cry."

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Jon? Smile? Tell you it's going to be alright? That we'll get you back into your bed tonight?"

Jon shook his head. He slipped down the rope a bit, holding on for dear God. He could only stand maybe thirty more seconds. "No... but please don't cry in front of me. You're stronger than me."

"Jon..."

"Janey... I'm sorry." With that, his hands let go and Jon plunged into the white abyss.

"JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" Janey screamed in horror, her eyes wide. This couldn't happen... it couldn't...

But only one sound echoed off from the abyss.

plop

[Life]

Take 4:

Been over a year since I touched this thing. But nerves are destroying me right now. One more week until I get my job.

Let's review the last year and a half. Drafted into the army. Went to a base for new immigrants. Got declared unfit mentally for combat and managed to reverse that. Eight months of training as a Combat Engineer, Operation Piller of Defense (firstt goddamn day of border duty and they pulled us to Gaza), border and regiment training for another four months. And now? Commander's course. Another four months. I'm a week away from the end.

And yet, I'm going crazy. I've been fighting my ass off for a good job. I even passed out one weekend at home from exhaustiln. I've given it everything I got and more. And it might not be enough because of this fucking languag. Who knows.

The problem is that I might get demoted from warrior depending on the job that I get. And that scares me. I've fought my ass off for every little thing since I drafted. I've gone into debt. I've almost been kicked out of my apartment. And yet with everything, I was able to do something about it.

Until now.